Identity
by Dashed
Summary: Anshi has been so many things Savage, Witch, Rose Bride. Now that Utena has entered her life she doesn’t know who or what she is anymore.


Disclaimer: don't own utena just a crazy fan.

XxXx

Anthy stands on the edge of the duelling area a small pleasant smile sits blandly on features that despite having muscles pulled into an expression don't seem to convey any emotion at all. She is after all the Rose Bride but she wasn't always she used to be a Witch. A wicked Witch.

As a Witch her hair curled down her back in long waves and her naked eyes could pierce the soul of a person. She had been a Witch for as long as Dios had been a prince and every now and then when the moon was full and she walked atop the grass and flowers never leaving so much as a bent blade or destroyed flower he would come to her and in the glade under a mid summers moon she would cast spells of strength and rejuvenation because even then Dios had seemed weary and worn.

They day she became wicked set a course in motion that not even her magic could hinder. Dios stumbled bleeding and exhausted into her cove. He knocked over the wooden stool and she caught him just before he would tumble into the wood smoke fire that blazed hotly under a cast iron pot. She guided him to the straw mattress to rest and he slept a day and a night. She longed to cast a spell in which he would sleep for a thousand but she doubted if her magic was strong enough to deafen his ears to the cries of thousands of princess.

Even Witches knew the greatest magic of all was the love in a pure heart.

She had watched time and time again as Dios staggered to his feet barely taking the time to buckle on his sword belt before racing off to slay a dragon. She watch as he took longer and longer to rise until eventually no matter how hard he tried he could not find his feet.

The day she became wicked Witch was the same day she met Ankio.

She bid her prince sleep. An eternal sleep filled with pleasant dreams she hoped and waited in silence as the wails of the princesses grew louder. She kept quite as the fathers came to the door angry and demanding the prince save their daughters. She listened as they hammered the house and the door shivered under the assault. She remain mute until the noise threatened to wake her prince and then she went to the door. Then she declared for all the fathers her wicked intentions.

No, you can't have him, she proclaimed spitefully, he is too weak.

_He is mine._

A wicked, evil, thought that twisted inside the wicked Witch. That coiled around her lungs and glued itself to her heart refusing to be pried free even as a thousands swords sought to drive it from her. She would steal the light and leave the rest of them in darkness.

Bruised bloody and broken she lay in the dirt afterwards and the door of her home creaked open slowly. Standing framed in the doorway was a man that no longer shone but gathered shadows around him. He was beautiful and floated with the same grace she had. Ethereal. Not a single bloody blade was disrupted as he passed instead the scarlet foliage stood more ridged and gleamed as sharply as the swords. He knelt in the dirt that sullied his white suit and picked her up in his arms. He kissed the tears from her cheek and a wicked tongue licked the blood from her wounds.

My wicked Witch, what have you done to me?

She remembered the amusement in dark eyes as she gasped in agony of physical wounds and died inside from the knowledge that no rose prince roamed the world. Instead that night there was born a Rose Bride.

She had not always been the Rose Bride or the Witch before all that she was a Savage.

Her long brown legs stretched and ran in the emerald green forest of her home. Muscles coiled and exploded digging deep into the dirt as short hair was widely pulled by the playful wind. Deep footprints marked her way through the forest as with every fibre of her being she screamed to the world I Am Here.

She was the only girl in all the world that wasn't a princess.

She remembers the burn of her lungs as she ran without enough oxygen, the exhilaration of pumping her arms faster to propel her forwards forever forwards. No destination was planned just the need to run, the wilderness reached out to snatch at her but she was too fast. She was free. She was running. Her lungs were on fire and her muscles screamed her elation as she ran and jumped and plunged deep downwards over the cliff Because, She, Wanted, Too. She fell, no, flew and was wild.

She sunk deep into the watery embrace of nature and fought with it. She victoriously broke the surface of the water and greedily drank her prize of clean fresh air. A light beckoned her to the bank and she went. She cocked her head to the side playfully, wild grin a permanent feature as the Prince descended from his noble steed and she tasted the honey of his lips before stealing the forbidden fruit from his hand and rushed off into the forest. Wild and savage she took what she wanted because she was free.

She didn't need a voice then to scream she was free.

Now she just didn't have a voice.

The Rose Bride watched the girl Price fight and wondered when was the last time she had done something savage.

The girl Prince. Something that shouldn't be but was. A noble heart shone just as bright as Dios. Sometimes when you looked at her and she looked back smiling in a way that made you wonder whom you were this time, you thought she shone like the sun next to Dios candle.

The girl Prince whom at night slept and became just a girl. You would stand over her and the

Witch would trace the noble face with her eyes and the Savage would map strong legs, strong enough to keep up with her, with firm rough hands. When the girl Prince awoke the Rose Bride would smile and present her with breakfast.

Thank you for the flowers, Anshi.

The room is dark and fake stars emulate her life. She grips the phone so hard that it should crack and the rolling feelings of disgust and loathing assault her as she refuses Akio's advice to look at the real stars. She could not help but hate the girl Prince who was nothing more than a girl. A girl Akio had made a woman. You don't know who you are this time

I am the Rose Bride do with me what you will.

So many times she had said that. She had said it sadly as the Witch, scornfully as the Savage and tonelessly as the Rose Bride. When you said it to the girl Prince you laughed bitterly because the Rose Bride was also something that should not be but was and no child, no girl, would change that.

As the Rose Bride slides the sword deep into the girl Prince's back she resigns herself to a horrible repetitive fate. As the Witch once again is stabbed by a thousand swords she cries for the Prince she betrayed. The Savage is silent more of a figment than Akio.

When the girl Prince rips open the coffin you are naked, shocked and hopeful. You have never been this and don't know what to do. You do the only thing you can, you reach forward and take the hand of the girl Prince and revolutionise the world.

Later you are neither Witch, Bride or Savage. You are Anthy, whom ever that might be and you are off to find Utena, whom ever she may be.


End file.
